


The Sacrifice of Trust

by Kale-y (PechoraFlow)



Series: Promptober 2020 [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Brigitte Whump, Canon-Typical Violence, Father-Daughter Relationship, Gen, I dont hate Brigitte I know I'm a rare breed, I said "where is my wholesome Dad!Reinhardt content" and couldn't find it, I used the game story because the creators fail to give us anything concrete except for backstory, It/Its Pronouns for Orisa, My First Work in This Fandom, Numbani (Overwatch), Parent Reinhardt Wilhelm, Talon is more mentioned than anything but they're in the background, Temporary Character Death, and that's the tea, hand-wavy science, so i made this, uhhhhhh injuries, why is this not a tag, y'all are sleeping smh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:54:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26761702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PechoraFlow/pseuds/Kale-y
Summary: When Reinhardt and Brigitte find themselves pinned down and outnumbered on Numbani, Reinhardt is forced to confront everything he has to lose, and Brigitte gets a taste of what life is like for a hero of Overwatch.Honor, glory, sacrifice.---Prompt: Injured
Relationships: Brigitte Lindholm & Angela "Mercy" Ziegler, Brigitte Lindholm & Reinhardt Wilhelm, Echo & Orisa
Series: Promptober 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1947931
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	The Sacrifice of Trust

Reinhardt checked his shield status frantically. Still a few more seconds until he could activate it again.

 _Damn it_. Those were seconds that they didn’t have. If any of their attackers got their hands on Doomfist’s gauntlet, they would become almost unbeatable.

Reinhardt activated his communicator. “We’re pinned down!” he yelled, trying to hear his own voice over the sound of bullets and bombs going off. “How much longer?”

 _“We’re still a few minutes out,”_ Lena reported. _“I’ve got Winston, Echo, and Angela with me. What’s your status?”_

“Not good,” Reinhardt said, daring a peak around the bus he was sheltering behind. He caught sight of Brigitte, taking cover in an abandoned clothing store. Windows around the shopping district were shattered, but that was all he was able to take in before an almost lucky bullet made him duck. “There are three special operatives - one sniper, one that can disappear, and another who keeps hacking my shield."

 _“I’ve got a friend in the area,”_ Echo said. _“She’ll be there to help you, soon."_

“Reinhardt!” Brigitte called. She was yelling over coms, too. Good. He had been worried about his hearing for a second, there... “I have my shield. We can fight our way back to the gauntlet if you take out that sniper. I’ll peek out, get the location of the sniper and relay it, then you send a firestrike and take them out.”

Reinhardt set his jaw, very much Not In Favor of this plan, but they were running out of options.

He checked his shield once again. Thirteen seconds.

“All right,” he said. “Do not take any risks.”

“Got it,” Brigitte answered, then she went silent.

Reinhardt waited behind the bus with baited breath, gripping his hammer tightly. He would only get one shot at this. He had to make it count.

“She’s behind!” Brigitte yelled. “Top of the building with the Sigma store-”

“Got it!” Reinhardt yelled back. He spun out, swinging his hammer with him as he moved. He caught sight of a flash of sunlight against a metal form, and he aimed for that. Just before the firestrike made contact, the sniper shot a grappling hook and launched herself off of the roof, swinging onto another.

Reinhardt’s shield beeped at him and he opened it instantly, just in time to block the incoming bullets and get back to the gauntlet. “Brigitte…" He looked around, trying to catch sight of his goddaughter.

When his eyes fell on her, a scream ripped itself from his throat. “ _Brigitte!"_

 _“Reinhardt, what’s going on?”_ Angela’s voice barely registered - he must have still been on coms - but he ignored her.

Brigitte lay a few meters away from the cart, her body limp and unresponsive in a growing pool of her own blood. Her eyes stared up, unblinking and unseeing. The neurosensors on her forehead sparked, and her armor had two patches of blood - one on her shoulder, and the other on her hip.

He couldn’t move. He had to stay with the gauntlet. If Talon got their hands on it, then this whole city would be in danger.

He had to hold it together. As much as the thought made him sick to his stomach, he would have to leave Brigitte where she was.

“I need emergency medical,” Reinhardt barked over coms, letting the spark of excitement for battle turn to rage. It coursed through his veins like electricity, blocking out the thoughts that he knew would only put everyone in more danger. He had to stay _focused._ “Brigitte is down. I can’t get to her. How far-”

Reinhardt trailed off, hearing something... Heavy metal footsteps were surging from somewhere, almost in a...gallop?

Before he could register where exactly the hoof beats were coming from, something jumped onto the cart behind him. It shot something from a compartment in its arm, which hit the cart and activated in a shield.

“Hel-lo!” it said, waving a hand jerkily. “My de-sig-na-tion is O-ri-sa. I am here to a-ssist.”

“Get to Brigitte!” he ordered, not questioning his newfound backup. “Get her on the cart, then help me get this thing moving!”

“I’m on it," Orisa said. It pulled an arm back and its plating started to change, turning to shining gold. It darted out from behind the shield, bullets bouncing off of its plating with no effect. Reinhardt tried to keep himself focused on the battle at hand - that sniper was back up, and grappling to a new rooftop - but he couldn’t stop himself from glancing over to monitor Orisa's progress.

He watched as it quickly scanned Brigitte’s unmoving body, then carefully scooped her up and galloped back to the cart. Whatever effect she had enabled that allowed her plating to turn gold, it faded quickly as she stepped back behind the safety of the barrier.

Orisa laid Brigitte next to the gauntlet, where she would be completely shielded from further harm. Then, Orisa looked up at Reinhardt, her eyes changing to an almost mournful expression. “She is not breath-ing. I am a-fraid she might be-”

“Don’t,” Reinhardt snapped. His hands twisted around the handle of his hammer, and, using his fear as his power source, he launched a second firestrike at the sniper’s new position. He turned on his coms again. “How much longer?”

 _“Incoming_!”

With a thunderous _BOOM_ , Winston landed on the Numbani street, cracking the pavement. He activated his own barrier, effectively bubbling the cart and his teammates.

Winston looked back at Reinhardt, then spotted Brigitte. “What happened?”

“Where’s Angela?” Reinhardt demanded, ignoring Winston’s question.

“I’m here,” Angela called. Reinhardt looked up in time to see the battle angel herself, descending at wicked speeds through the air and slowing just enough to give herself a graceful landing. She stepped to Brigitte’s side, quickly analyzing her injuries.

Reinhardt couldn’t help himself. He moved closer to Angela, trusting Winston and Orisa to guard the cart long enough for their more mobile team members to arrive.

Angela’s face was set in concentration. “How long has she been dead?”

Six words. He had survived falling off of cliffs, being in collapsing buildings and explosions, and he had survived every one of the scars that littered his body. But six words knocked the breath from his lungs, sending his heart stuttering in his chest.

“Three min-utes, for-ty-two se-conds,” Orisa reported.

Angela nodded, then pressed a hand to Brigitte’s shoulder. Her palm glowed with a gentle golden light, and a bit of color returned to Brigitte’s cheeks.

Then, Brigitte gasped.

He could have collapsed right there; only years of battlefield experience kept him upright. She was _alive_ \- coughing, choking, and sputtering, but _breathing._

Reinhardt let out the shuddering breath he had been holding. Angela noticed and put a hand on his arm, subtly healing his own minor injuries at the touch. “She will be okay, Reinhardt. We need to get her back to Gibraltar as soon as we can; I have repaired the damage, but she has lost a lot of blood, which I can’t replace. If we don’t move quickly, she could go into shock.”

“How many of them are there?” Winston asked, watching the rooftops.

“Three," Reinhardt said. “Sniper, hacker, and some man that can turn into smoke.”

Winston barred his teeth - one of the few animal instincts that he had left. “I’m familiar with them.”

 _“I’ve got Widow-bitch!”_ Lena called over coms.

Reinhardt looked up and saw a flash of blue and yellow on the rooftop, right where he had thrown his last firestrike.

“Echo, go after Reaper,” Winston instructed. “Do not get into contact with the hacker! Understand?”

“Understood,” Echo called back, zipping above their heads and launching an array of sticky bombs at the Reaper. Their fight was soon obscured by smoke, but Reinhardt heard a worrisome _“DIE, DIE, DIE!”_ in Echo’s normally cheery voice that made him glad she was on their side.

“Angela, Orisa, and I will escort the gauntlet to the museum where it belongs,” Winston said, turning to Reinhardt. “You take Brigitte - we landed two blocks away.”

Angela joined in. “Get her out of her armor, when you’re there, and lay her down, elevating her feet. Make sure she is warm and comfortable, and do not give her anything to eat or drink. Got that?”

Reinhardt nodded. “Yes. Yes, I got it.”

Moving to the cart, Reinhardt handed his warhammer to Orisa, who took it and tilted her head in confusion.

“I cannot carry both my weapon and Brigitte,” Reinhardt explained. “If you have no need of it, I will return for it later, but if it can still protect you in battle while I cannot, then its home is here.”

Orisa nodded. “Thank you. I shall use it wise-ly.”

Reinhardt simply nodded, then moved quickly to Brigitte’s side. She blinked her eyes open, gaze hazy. Some light of recognition was still in her eyes.

“Sorry,” she whispered.

Saying nothing, Reinhardt grit his teeth and picked her up as gently as he could possibly manage. He held her close, shielding her with his armor as he took off in a run, making his way back to the ship.

* * *

The battle would last another half hour. Lena was the first one back, as the others stayed to help with collateral damage - after all, somebody needed to start up the ship and get the engines warmed up.

She stepped into the cockpit, but froze when she heard quiet murmuring from the passenger area. She poked her head around the corner and felt her heart break.

Reinhardt and Brigitte’s armor was piled in the corner, abandoned for the time being. On the blue sectional, Brigitte lay on her back, and Reinhardt sat next to her, holding one of her hands in both of his own. What he was saying, Lena couldn’t make out, but she was almost certain it was a one-sided conversation.

“Wheels up in five,” Lena said, activating her com. The sooner they were back on Gibraltar, the better.

* * *

Brigitte wasn’t a morning person, by any stretch of the imagination. In fact, she wasn’t really a _sleep_ person, either. Her days lasted an average of twenty hours, with four hours saved for sleeping.

Reinhardt had found out about her poor sleeping habits around three months prior, and was starting to make more and more of an effort to get her on a more dependable sleep schedule.

_Reinhardt._

In an instant, the memory of fighting on Numbani returned - the sharp pain in her skull from what she could only guess was an EMP, the feeling of two rounds breaking through the weak points in her armor and embedding into her arm and shoulder…

She forced her eyes open, almost frantic-

“Brigitte. Brigitte, look at me.” Angela’s face was above hers, the light above her illuminating her hair like a halo. “You’re alright. We’re back at Gibraltar. Breathe-”

“Where’s Reinhardt?” Brigitte asked, her voice hoarse. “Is he alright? What happened?” She tried to push herself upright, but a sudden wave of dizziness and nausea made her freeze, then sink back onto the mattress. Black spots danced in her vision teasingly, threatening to send her back into darkness. She grunted, fighting it off.

“Brigitte, _stop moving,_ ” Angela ordered. “I will get Reinhardt, but you have to stay here, and do not move. Otherwise, I will have to sedate you. _Uppfattat?”_

Brigitte bristled, but agreed. “ _Bra.”_

Angela took a step back, eyes still trained on Brigitte, untrusting. When Brigitte didn’t move, Angela turned and half-walked, half-ran out of the room.

Brigitte inhaled deeply, closing her eyes, then exhaled. Her shoulder tightened at the action, but not in pain, at least. She had a feeling there was a scar there - another mark from battle.

She took another deep breath. Someone had taken off her armor, so she could breathe easier. Her under-armor suit was gone as well, replaced with a soft cotton shirt and pants. In her arm was a needle, bandaged tightly in place and connected to a bag of blood via a long red tube. A blood transfusion.

How bad was it?

She remembered being hacked, then shot. She remembered hitting the ground, struggling to push herself off of the concrete. Reinhardt yelled her name…

Then choking, and everyone was there. And Reinhardt picked her up, brought her back to the ship…

Then she woke up here.

The door to the infirmary opened, startling Brigitte from her thoughts. She looked toward the doorway, where Reinhardt had thrown open the door.

He looked as if he were on the brink of tears. “Brigitte…”

In seconds, he crossed the entire room in four paces, then scooped her into his arms and hugged her tightly, holding her close. She returned the hug with just as much force.

“I’m okay,” Brigitte said into Reinhardt’s shoulder. “Just some bumps and bruises.”

“I told you to stay close to me,” Reinhardt said. “I… I couldn’t reach you. I…”

Reinhardt’s hands shook against Brigitte’s back. She moved to pull away, so she could look him in the eye, but he tightened his grip and she stopped, instead returning to the hug and trying to offer comfort, if she could. “But it’s fine. Everything turned out just fine-”

“You died, Brigitte,” Reinhardt said softly.

Brigitte stopped, her throat suddenly tight. “Oh.”

And that’s when the weight of her failure fully hit. This mission, being with Overwatch… She was meant to _prove_ herself. She thought she had been doing fine. Then, she and Reinhardt took a solo mission and she fell apart. She died, leaving Reinhardt without a healer, without anyone watching his back.

 _She failed,_ and it could have cost Reinhardt his life.

“I’m sorry,” she hiccuped, her voice watery as tears lined her eyelids. “I’m so sorry-”

Reinhardt shushed her. “Do not apologize, you did nothing wrong. I am sorry I could not protect you…” His voice broke and he hugged her tighter still, close enough that she could feel his heartbeat racing. She buried her face in the crook of his neck, feeling more like a child than she had in years.

How many more times would she fail?

How many times had Reinhardt died?

How many times would _she_ die?

Blocking out the raging thoughts in her mind, Brigitte let Reinhardt hold her, both of them relieved that the other made it out of Numbani alive, and simultaneously terrified for the other’s future.

Brigitte couldn’t shake the feeling that death would be a familiar condition.

She just wondered when it would become permanent.

**Author's Note:**

> wow that was more dramatic than I intended
> 
> Let me know if you liked it! I've never written an Overwatch fic before and I have a feeling there are going to be MAYBE ten people that read this, but I wrote it for you <3 I've got one more one shot planned for a later prompt - #21, I believe. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it!


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